The Difficulties of Avoidance

by dead2self

A/N: It's that time of year again! Harry Potter mania is in the air as I'm getting ready to re-read all seven books for the seventh movie, which means fanfiction inspiration! I haven't actually started the books yet, but I'm currently studying for the LSAT and that means procrastination. So I finally got around to finishing this chapter! More fun Tom and Ginny interactions, so I hope you enjoy!

May go back an edit later, as there's some parts I'm still not happy with. Please crit and review!

Light filtering through the drapes on her bed woke Ginny and she pulled her blankets over her head to ward off the growing unease in her stomach. She wanted to go back to sleep. There were rustles from her housemates, already stirring, and busy thoughts came unbidden into her head. She tried to recall the Prophet, but even that anger could not change that the night before had been a colossal failure.

Ginny was appropriately shamefaced at breakfast. It did not help that she received several commiserating letters and several letters reprimanding her for revenging herself on Harry by lambasting him in the Prophet. She had narrowly avoided getting a suspicious looking powder on her hands from the most recent letter when Luna drifted over to the Gryffindor table.

"Good morning, Ginny." Ginny's heart sunk into her stomach as she turned to face her friend. But with a tone of distraction, Luna said, "Oh, that's pretty. Did you make it yourself?"

Ginny, confused for but a moment, yelped and jumped away from a previously innocuous letter that had burst into vibrant green flames. Screams erupted down the table as students scrambled to get out of their seats and Ginny tried a litany of spells until the magical fire extinguished, leaving the ends of her hair gently singed.

"From my readers at the Prophet," Ginny said bitterly, quickly Vanishing her remaining mail as her fellow Gryffindors trickled back to their seats. "Sorry Luna, what was it you wanted?"

"I just wanted to talk about Tom. I don't think last night went as well as we could have hoped."

Ginny's eyebrows shot into her hairline, but she leapt out of her seat to usher Luna away from two passing Slytherin fourth-years who engaged in a fierce whispered conversation so fast it was a wonder their heads had not knocked together. "Has anyone ever told you that you need a bit of tact, Luna?" she hissed.

"Oh, yes, all the time," Luna answered. "But sometimes I think they just mean I should lie more often."

"Didn't seem to be a problem with Harper last night."

Luna's lips tightened and she gave a small sniff. "I believe Harper is beginning to bring out the worst of my qualities. I have never met a person with less character."

"Really? You seemed to like him… er, find him interesting enough at the beginning of the year."

"Yes, well—that isn't important anyhow! I suppose you think you've gotten out of talking about Tom?"

"No, Luna, I'm sorry; you were right. Last night was a disaster. I s'ppose I should—" she nearly swallowed the word, "—apologize."

"I will not accept empty words of apology!" Both Ginny and Luna jumped at the voice echoing through the hall, only to recognize the characteristic clanking from a nearby portrait. "Draw your sword, vicious siren, and duel me with honor!" cried Sir Cadogan.

Three goblins leered dangerously at the knight in their frame as he struggled fruitlessly against his scabbard and Luna approached the portrait. "Hello, Sir Cadogan," she said. "How do you do?"

"Quite—well—Fair—Maiden," he wheezed as his fat gray pony idled into the frame and chewed at its bit. He managed to release the sword as Ginny approached and pointed it valiantly at her. "Ahah! Prepare yourself, vicious siren!"

Ginny held in her laughter as he attempted some showy swordplay and tangled his sword in his pony's bridle. She bent down and smiled at him. "Oh Sir Cadogan, I am sorry I shot a spell at you. I could tell you I was having a bad day, but I still shouldn't have done it. Is there anything I can do to make up for it?"

"I—er—" the knight stuttered, losing his grip on his sword. The wild-eyed pony trotted off with it, throwing its head to try to dislodge the terrifying object so close to its neck. With a clanking cough, the knight stood a little straighter. "Very well, yes. I see that I have persuaded you from your evil ways. Your thanks is the only payment I require."

"Glad we're square again," she said, suddenly alighting upon a plan that would have made her brothers proud. "You were right last night, Sir Cadogan. I am a maiden in distress. Can you help me?"

After getting over the shock of actually being asked for help, Sir Cadogan dipped into a creaky bow and said, "I cannot ignore a plea for help from such a fair maiden as you. What services do you desire?"

"I need you to follow the Head Boy around the castle today. It's very important that you don't lose sight of him in the corridors, for he is absolutely up to no good."

"The scoundrel! I shall go forth valiantly!"

Ginny planted her hands on her hips smugly as the knight waddled after the pony to retrieve his sword three portraits over.

"That wasn't very nice," Luna said.

"Please, Luna, it's Harper," Ginny answered, leading the way toward the dungeon. "He deserves it."

"No, I meant poor Sir Cadogan will be running all over the castle for the entire day. He'll be exhausted."

"He loves this sort of thing, Luna."

In the kitchens, Ginny noticed that Harry's elf friend had been shuffled as far away from them as possible, a corner where he was pouring pumpkin juice into a multitude of cups for lunch, and the house elves gave her an extra dessert. Luna carried the plates up to the seventh corridor while Ginny ate the biscuit and guided them away from Harper by listening for armor clanking. In the seventh corridor, Ginny stepped back, but Luna handed her the plates.

"I'm not sure that's a good idea yet, Luna," Ginny said, pushing them back. "You didn't see him last night."

"I think it would be best if you smoothed things over as soon as possible," Luna said, unblinking. "You can't keep dwelling on him being your enemy if this will ever work."

Ginny bit back a retort, as Luna seemed to have no inclination to take the plate back. But as she shouldered her way through the door, she thought it unlikely that she would ever feel something for Riddle beyond fear or anger. Indeed, those were the only two states in which she entered this room, and without the thin veneer of rage over her eyes, she was now returned to her familiar first year anxiety.

Gryffindor courage, she reminded herself, and stepped into the room, wand out, but Riddle was still lying on the bed. Screwing up her voice, she called, "Breakfast." The figure on the bed started, and then he rolled over.

"Not hexing me anymore? I'm appalled at your oversight."

"Dumbledore talked to us about how we were treating you," Ginny lied, and for a moment when she set the food down on the table, her back was to him. She wheeled around, still nervous, and added, "Sorry, I guess."

Riddle's eyes narrowed. He was sitting up now, and was studying her closely, and she studied him in turn. He was far more gaunt than she remembered him, but despite the dark circles under his eyes, he was still handsome. His dark hair was mussed to one side and there were lines from the pillow on his face. Ginny was shocked to find him utterly normal.

"You're lying," he accused.

Ginny shrugged. "You're right, I'm not particularly sorry. Luna is though, but you probably already know that since you took advantage of it." With another glance at his gaunt face, she added, "And have you not been eating?"

Riddle swung his feet to the floor and stood up in one swift movement. He was next to Ginny before she expected it and she almost recoiled. With a small smile curling on his lips, Riddle picked up a roll from his plate. "What does it matter to you if I eat? Don't tell me you are suddenly overcome with pity for me?"

Ginny raised an eyebrow at him. "Hardly. Dumbledore's orders. Clean that plate; I have class."

"Lying again."

"Yeah, I have free period, but I'd rather not spend it with you."

Riddle noted her suspiciously, but sunk deeply into the armchair – which looked as though patches had been torn off by hand now – and picked up the plate.

"You're in a better mood today," Ginny noted, trying to make her voice sound friendly.

"Peas in a pod. While you're still in this friendly mood, could you convince Dumbledore to give me back my chair? I loathe this thing."

"I think it looks comfortable enough. Any other housekeeping requests, Riddle?"

"Do not patronize me." He took a swig from his glass, noting her through his brow. "My name is Lord Voldemort, and you would do well to remember it."

Ginny repressed a shudder and raised an eyebrow at him. "Oh will I? I'm sorry Tom, but you introduced yourself to me as Tom Riddle six years ago and I'm afraid it's just going to stick with you now." She was close enough to see his nostrils flare and his fist clench at his side, and she jumped to say, "Listen, Riddle, about last night… I shouldn't have—"

"Don't be modest. You wanted to yell and I wanted to hex you until you would never walk properly again. At least one of us got what they wanted."

Ginny felt her hackles rising again. "You were pretty keen on yelling yourself."

"A necessary alternative."

His eyes, trained hungrily on her, distracted Ginny long enough from her retort to take a deep breath. "Okay, no, I don't want to fight again." Ginny was quite unprepared for him to snort at her. "Why do you want to fight so badly then?" she demanded hotly. "You were never like this before."

"I don't know if you've noticed, but I've spent the better part of the past month unconscious."

"No, not now. When I knew you before, in the diary."

"Maybe the finer points of deception escape you, but naturally I would not have gone around picking fights with you if I was pretending to be your friend."

"You didn't always deceive me, Riddle. You were quite open with your intentions toward me near the end. If anything, I would have said you considered screaming matches beneath you." Ginny circled behind his chair as he slashed into his eggs, staring down at the back of his head. How was it that he and Harry were so remarkably similar?

"No, you know what I think? I think you're picking fights with me because it's the only thing you can do to me anymore. Tough luck, Riddle – I'm not going to fight with you. Heckle me to your heart's content; there will be no more yelling matches from me."

"I won't hold my breath." The plate fell with a clatter as he heaved himself out of the chair and turned on Ginny. He trailed a hand along the chair as he circled it, eyes never leaving Ginny, and she had to step back against the chair. "I suppose you think it's mighty big of you to restrain yourself from hexing me. You pretend to understand me, but I see you haven't forgotten that I terrorized you for a year. Any simpleton could see you jump and fumble and your pupils dilate and your hands tremor. You fear me, and rightly so, for I have not forgotten either. Every hex, every Stun, every broken bone, I will repay back tenfold. Dumbledore was a cruel fool for placing you between me and my freedom."

Ginny kept a firm grip on her wand and her eyes resolutely on the bookcase to her left even as he closed her in against the chair, leaning over her. "A shame you wasted your only chance then," she said vaguely.

"Hah! Dumbledore will have to plant himself in front of that door himself if he wants to stop me getting out again!" His lips quirked at the corners when Ginny shoved her wand at his chest.

"Riddle, move." The air between them felt stagnant and the fabric of the chair strained against his tightening grip.

"That lasted five minutes, didn't it?"

"This is self-defense, not mindlessly hexing you."

"Right. Go on and defend yourself then," he said, reaching for her wand hand.

Then, with the reflexes of a Chaser, Ginny rammed her shoulder into his chest. He bent with a grunt and made a grab for her, but she darted under his arm and around the chair. "There – no hexes!" she crowed.

"Just like a blood-traitor to use filthy Muggle tricks," he grunted, clutching on to the armchair, whether to steady himself or restrain himself, Ginny was unsure.

"That was Quidditch, Riddle," Ginny replied, turning to the mess on the floor. "Scourgify."

"I thought you wanted me to eat more."

"Then you shouldn't throw your food on the ground like a three-year-old," she retorted, picking up the discarded plate. "And speaking of filthy Muggle tricks and throwing food, you're the one who threw a glass at me last night. What do you call that? Some sort of half-blood reflex?"

Riddle's lip curled dangerously, but instead of responding he retreated to the chair and settled into it. He closed his eyes, and then his face was calm again.

"I think it's time for you to go," he said when he opened his eyes. There was no trace of anger left in his voice, but Ginny's skin tingled and she was all too happy to send her Patronus through the door.

"Was it alright?" Luna asked as she struggled up from where she was sitting against the wall. "You were in there for quite some time."

"Y-Yeah," Ginny answered, trying to shake away the strange feeling at the nape of her neck. "Yeah, I was just talking to him. I didn't hex him, so that went better."

"He… hasn't gotten any better, has he?"

"Of course not, Luna. You just saw him yesterday, and if anything we've had a setback with me blowing up at him."

Luna sighed and stared at the invisible door as if she could see behind it. She remained lost in thought until she said, "I think I'm going to go feed the thestrals during my free period. It's been quite some time since I've seen them."

"Um, alright," Ginny answered, looking down at her watch. She ought to get started on her Potions essay… or rather, avoid the potions essay and write the Defense essay that would currently be graded by no one. Snape's position had not yet been filled, and they had been instructed to continue the assignments they had already been given. Even if it was pointless, she would take it over Potions.

That night, Luna went in to see Riddle with an armload of books that she carried straight back out with her, saying that Riddle had called them too simple for his tastes. Ginny glanced over the titles, which included the library's copy of Little People, Big Plans and a battered old Lockhart book, and secretly agreed with his reluctance to read them. "I'll look for more with you tomorrow," she said, taking part of the stack, "but I have a feeling he's read everything in the library."

"Nothing new, though," Luna said, leading the way down the hall. "He can't have read anything written in the past forty years."

"Oh yeah… I guess we could ask him what he likes?"

"He keeps asking me for things from the Restricted section," Luna answered. "I suspect from the titles that they might poison me at the touch."

"Whatever. He can just read whatever we bring him then."

The the sound of clanking brought an abrupt end to their conversation, for they heard a wheezy voice calling, "Slow down, you scoundrel, you rogue!" and another familiar voice yelling, "Leave me alone, you crazy portrait! I'm Head Boy!" Rounding a corner, they nearly ran headlong with Harper, who was barreling red-faced down the corridor with Sir Cadogan not far in his wake.

With one glance at Harper's harried appearance, Ginny burst out, "Evening, Harper!" and darted past him before she had the chance to erupt in laughter.

"Lovegood," Harper roared as Ginny rounded the next corner. "Do something about this!"

"I really don't see what the problem is," Luna's voice drifted. "I think he's delightful…"

The Common Room was still buzzing with the commotion of a third year Exploding Snap tournament, so Ginny climbed up to her room. One of her housemates had already drawn the drapes around her bed, so the room was silent. Evaline's bed stood strangely empty on the other side of the room, a reminder that nothing wrong at Hogwarts could be fixed by one funny prank. Ginny tried to write her Potions essay before bed again, but set it aside before long. That feeling had returned to the nape of her neck, and as she pulled the covers of her bed up to her chin, Riddle filled her head.

I have not forgotten, her mind replayed. Every hex, every Stun, every broken bone – and now, Ginny imagined, every insult and argument. I will repay tenfold. Tenfold. Every hex, every Stun, every broken bone. I have not forgotten. Every hex, every Stun, every broken bone.